


Savior

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Coping, Crimes & Criminals, Crushes, Fights, Hopeful Ending, Jason Todd is Robin, Loss, Love, M/M, Mental Anguish, Past Drug Use, Repression, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8456671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: It was the dead of the night, the part where even the worst criminals had crawled deep into their holes for the evening, the part where heroes came home and wrapped themselves in the warmth of their blankets, blocking out the biting cold of the world outside.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For JayRoyWeek on Tumblr. Day 1: Robin Jason  
> Lines from On War by Carl von Clausewitz used in quotation within this story.  
> Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "Devil Side" by Foxes

_Good kids with a devil side_

\- Foxes' Devil Side

Roy's breath hitched, a shudder ripping through him as he jerked awake. It was the dead of the night, the part where even the worst criminals had crawled deep into their holes for the evening, the part where heroes came home and wrapped themselves in the warmth of their blankets, blocking out the biting cold of the world outside. 

Rolling onto his side, Roy pulled the blankets back up around his shoulders and pushed his nose down against the pillow. The heat had gone out again in this damp old apartment, probably sometime a few hours ago judging by the way his breath froze as it hit the air around him. Remaining where he was at was unappealing, but getting up was worse. He knew he wouldn't be able to turn it back on anyway, it meant the tank had given out and that meant there'd only be cold water to shower with in the morning. 

The tremble that rushed through his body this time was even worse, robbed him of his breath. He could feel it in his bones. Groaning, he shoved himself up, dragging the blanket with him to his pile of clothing from the evening before. He tugged the red uniform back on, doing his best not to drop the blanket in the stumbling dance he was doing in an effort not to freeze wrapping himself up in his suit. 

Finally, he ditched the blanket and shoved his feet into his shoes, strapped his arrows across his back, and picked up his bow. With a steeling breath, he pushed the rickety old window up and stepped out onto the fire escape. The world swirled around him and he hated that the dizziness of hunger came in waves these days, hated that he knew what it felt like to survive off handouts between jobs, and that he knew what it felt like to beg on the street. Nothing had been the same since- _no_ , he couldn't think of that. 

Sliding his bow into place, he gripped the railing in one hand, vaulting over it and landing hard on the platform a story down. He took off at a run, feeling the heat from the way his blood started pumping through him as he ran across the Gotham rooftops. He'd been here a few months, ever since he'd been turned out, jumping between run-down apartments while their tenants were conveniently tied up in the court systems. He never stole from them, never kept anything from their places when he borrowed them, and he always left something behind that could be mistaken as being replaced by a landlord to pay his _rent_ of their roof over his head. It was a dangerous game he played, but one he didn't really have a choice in. The streets here were a death sentence and he'd already walked that line in an entirely different way, already looked death in the face and told it to fuck off. Once was more than enough.

He launched himself off of one building onto the next, barely catching the railing, feeling another wave of dizziness wash over him as he clutched the metal tight. As much as he didn't want to steal it, he knew he'd have to soon enough. His last bout of trashcan food had resulted in nearly being poisoned and this city... he couldn't trust it even as far as he could throw it. Cruelty at humanity's worst. A passion about death that most people had for _life_ ran rampant and he'd nearly tasted the finest pieces of becoming a piece of her tragic backstory. 

Slipping through the slats between the rails, Roy straightened up on the other side, hearing a thud somewhere nearby. A gunshot and a _child's_ voice, taunting, sneering in a way that told him this kid was up against some pretty bad odds. Tamping down his dizziness, he bolted toward the sound, taking the fire escape landings maybe a bit more recklessly than he should have, landing hard on the street behind one of eight men. Two lay sprawled on the ground, out cold, the other six still mobile, still fighting this kid in a flashy suit, _all by himself_. 

The man in front of him cocked his gun and Roy reacted. There was an assumption to be made here, the suit reminding him of someone from _before_. The kid turned as the gun went off, the shot into the ground as Roy wrenched the guy's arm, felt his wrist snap under his grip. The gun clattered to the ground and Roy kicked it away, his knee coming up to slam into the attacker's back. He went down hard and Roy followed, one good blow to his head and the asshole crumpled. 

Another man went down beside this kid and as two more rushed him, Roy drew his bow, slid an arrow into place, and in rapid succession, dropped three of the men. The tides changed and the remaining two went after him, seeing him as the bigger threat in an instant. Roy dodged a bullet from one of the men, coming up closer to the kid, watching as he threw himself at them. _Reckless_. There was a barely held back anger in the way he punched, in the hard line of his jaw as he took them both on without so much as a second thought. 

Roy watched, the dizziness coming back tenfold. Slumping against the wall, he struggled to keep his vision in alignment, fought against the swim of nausea from the way the world was tilting crazily back and forth. Somewhere in the ever-swaying picture of the world, he made out the kid's image in front of him, knew inherently he'd taken out the remaining two with ease.

The sound of his cape fluttering in the wind reminded Roy of the incessant wave of a flag atop the highest rooftop. He squinted and the world hazed over, agony ripping through his gut. His hands shook as he tried to push away from the wall, tried not to regret helping this kid with the last of his energy.

The kid's voice drifted to him through the haze. "Robin to Batman." A pause and then, "Possible superhero down."

Roy's legs gave out and the sharp slide of the brick wall against his back eased into blackness, his last thought of how lucky he'd have to be to find someone who would know exactly who he was.

\------------

Roy woke to the steady sound of a mechanical whirring. Slitting his eyes open, he took stock of his position: the press of metal beneath a thin layer of padding, the damp chill of what sounded like a _cave_ if the flutter of bat wings were any indication, the familiar prickle of a needle in his arm. He turned his head and took in the saline bag slowly feeding into his arm. Shifting very carefully, he sat up, reached with his free arm to run his hand through his hair. His mask was still in place, as was his suit. He could see his bow and arrows resting on a shelf across from him and he heard the quiet shift of fabric that meant someone had joined him before they came into his field of vision.

The kid - Robin - settled against the counter across from him, his arms crossed, bright gauntlets almost an absurdity in the stark light of this room. "Lucky _he_ knows you." There was the barest touch of amusement in the kid's voice that Roy didn't miss.

Swallowing back the dryness of his mouth, Roy offered half a smile. "More like lucky you understood I was on your side."

"Hard to miss the way you _broke his arm_." Robin moved toward Roy then, leaning over and offering in a conspiratorial whisper, "B's not pleased with the _overuse of force_ , as he puts it."

Roy winced, let himself tip his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "Always been that way."

"How do you know him?" It was as if they weren't switching gears, the way the kid spit out the question, as if he hadn't thought any of it through before opening his mouth. "Work with him? League stuff? What?"

Roy was silent for a moment, debating what to tell Robin. It wasn't the Robin he'd known, wasn't the one he'd met so long ago. The voice was all wrong, the attitude _far_ different and people didn't change that much. Plus... he was too young unless Roy was completely losing his mind. "Something like that." Vague enough to not give something away Batman would be irritable over, precise enough to hopefully stop the line of questions that didn't seem to end with this kid.

Excitement tinged Robin's voice. "You knew D- uh... the other Robin? Did you work with the Titans? Oh, I know who you are! You're-"

Before Roy could interject, hope to stop this kid from drawing the lines to a past he wasn't proud of, he heard Batman's smooth voice pipe up from behind him. It would have startled him if he hadn't learned a long time ago to expect Batman to sneak up on everyone. "Leave him alone, Robin." Relief flooded through Roy as he leaned on his IV-free arm, winced when the shift caused the room to tilt. "Go and get something light for him to eat."

Gratefulness flooded through Roy and he put on a weak little smile, seeing how Robin lit up at it as he bolted out of the room. Batman came into his field of vision and the IV was slipped free of his arm. The cave was silent for what stretched out into an eternity before he spoke. "You disappeared off the grid for a while there. What are you doing in Gotham?"

Roy let out a humorless laugh, watching as the area was cleaned and a bandage applied, the direction of it careful to cover some of his newer mistakes in a long line of them. "This city draws in those that it can feed on, doesn't it? Pretty sure you told Arrow something like that once."

"She prays on the weak. But you are not weak." Gloved fingers lightly touched the inside of his elbow, over what he'd just covered up. "Your bloodwork shows you're free of your demons, are you not?"

"The physical ones..." Roy took a breath, tucked his arm against his abdomen and let himself study Batman in a way he never had before. "New Robin?"

Batman nodded and the clatter of dishes let Roy know Robin had returned. A small tray was settled next to him and he looked at the thin broth, the saltine crackers beside it, and the tall glass of water. Nothing in the world could have stopped the rumble of his stomach. "Don't eat too quickly or you will lose it all."

Roy made a faintly annoyed sound, turning so his leg was pulled up on the table, picking up the bowl of soup and settling it on his thigh. "Trust me, I'm familiar with this process. More than I'd like to be."

Silence permeated the room and after a moment, Batman removed himself, gone like the current of the air, a whisper of nothingness in his place. 

Roy ate a few spoonful's of soup and paused, listening to his gut snarl and gurgle over the addition of something to it. He could feel Robin's eyes prickling his skin and he sighed. "On with twenty questions, kid. Keeps me entertained, at least." And really... he didn't mind.

\--------

Roy settled with one hip against the edge of the computer desk, watching as Batman finished up a report of the evening. He'd been here three days now, had been invited to stay when he'd tried to duck out after his meal in the cave the first morning he'd woken up here. He hadn't been invited out of the cave and he hadn't poked around at trying to find out where he was, knowing trust extended further than any knowledge he could have garnered about who Batman was. 

Tonight he'd been strong enough to take a run with them, had kept his head down when they'd left the cave, intentionally not looking at where they were leaving from. Not that he got the impression that it would tell him anything if he had. He was getting better again, one day at a time, actually having food in his belly, a place to sleep that wasn't just this side of freezing, and warm showers to ease his aches. Robin had even brought him down a pair of pajamas, left them beside the cot they'd set up for him along with a towel and a robe.

The second evening a worn copy of _The Grapes of Wrath_ had appeared atop his pillow and he'd sat reading it later into the night than he should have. Something inside of him told him it had been Robin that settled it there, that gave him something to do, something to focus on besides the path of his existence. 

Turning away from the computer, Roy picked up his bow and his sheath of arrows, heading for the alcove he'd come to call his own for the time being. He hadn't so much as settled his equipment down when he heard the soft flutter of a cape and then Robin's quiet voice. "Think you're up for steak tonight? Alfred... he makes the best steak." There was something wistful in the kid's voice, something that belayed his happiness at such a thing being far deeper than just a simple meal. 

Roy's gut clenched as he realized this kid knew the pain of an empty stomach, knew the ache of bones growing fragile with a lack of nourishment. "I'd love some." The quality of the food he'd been consuming had told him somewhere in day two that this wasn't a run of the mill sort of place to be holed up in. He could only imagine the cut of beef he would receive tonight and the very thought made his mouth water. He hadn't had anything like this since- _no, he wouldn't think about that_.

Pulling his uniform top over his head, he let it fall onto the floor at the edge of the cot.

Robin was there in an instant, gathering it up and gesturing impatiently at him. "The rest. Needs to be washed after the dip in that vat."

Roy huffed out an amused little sound, turned his back on the kid and unfastened his belt and then his pants, unstrapping pieces of it and removing as much as he could to get it down to bare pieces that could be washed without difficulty. He added his gloves to the mix and passed both back to Robin, who still didn't leave. "What?"

"The rest..."

If it had been anywhere else, Roy would have _laughed_. The tone of his voice, the way he sounded almost breathless. _The kid had a crush_ and Roy would be lying if he didn't admit that it sort of felt nice to have someone look at him like he wasn't the scum of the earth for once. "Yeah, how about I leave that on the bench outside the showers, okay?"

"Yeah... okay." Resignation in that voice, the clear edges of knowledge that he'd been caught hedging into Robin's voice.

Roy picked up his robe and his towel, heading around the corner to the showers. He stepped into the steamy area, knew that meant Robin had already washed up and had poured himself back into his suit so he could come back to visit him. It was ridiculous really, that Batman wouldn't let them dress in street clothing and simply keep the mask on. Or at least he assumed that was the going ordeal, given the strange hours the kid wore the suit.

Stepping into the stall, he tossed the robe and towel over the door and carefully peeled off his mask, settling it on the small shelf high enough up so it didn't get wet. Next came his jock, which he kicked under the door, knowing Robin had followed him in here. "On the floor, kid."

He heard the wisp of a cape and he smiled to himself as he pressed the button on the shower, sighing in relief as warm water poured down over him. Leaving here... that was going to be the hard part.

\--------

Roy stood at the foot of the stairs leading upward and out of the cave. Robin stood in front of him, three stairs up, his hand still raised in invitation, his words issuing the invitation. "C'mon." 

Still Roy couldn't find it in him not to be wary of the invite, it not coming from Batman, not feeling like being kicked out because he'd been fool enough to find out something more about who Batman and Robin were. Slowly, he shook his head, offering a small tug of a smile. "Nah, I'm good down here, really." He spread his arms wide and let a quiet laugh out. "It's the best accommodations I've had in a long time."

"It's damp."

"It's warmer than my last place."

Robin's voice held an edge of pleading. "You need air that isn't this cave."

"I'm breathing just fine." He hesitated and then tacked on, "I lived in an alley for a week or so one time. The stench was like not having air. There's air here, trust me."

"But dinner will be easier to eat up there," Robin's gaze cast to the top of the stairs. "Just one room. Don't leave it and-"

"And Batman will kick me to the curb faster than my mind can _think_. I'm not risking this, kid." Roy took one step up and let his hand brush over Robin's shoulder. "I know you're trying to be nice to me. I appreciate it, but I can eat my steak down here just fine."

Robin gave him a distressed look, but nodded anyway, drawing away and dragging himself up the stairs, looking defeated. In a way, Roy felt sorry for him, for how he'd shut him down like that.

Turning his back on the stairs, Roy headed right back to his little alcove, settling on his cot, drawing a secondary blanket that had appeared on his bed last night around his shoulders and leaning back against the wall. Above him the bats moved, leathery wings fluttering as they shifted around, restless in the face of the coming dawn.

The shadows moved and Batman was there, holding out a plate to Roy, the juiciest steak he'd ever seen perched atop a single leaf of butter leaf lettuce. A baked potato, piled high with all kinds of adornments was nestled to its side and steamed baby carrots collected themselves around the edges of the plate. He took the plate and shrugged off the blanket, perching the plate on his knee. "Thank you!"

Batman didn't leave, instead he shifted to the side and for the first time Roy saw _Alfred_. The older man pushed a cart carefully into place in front of Roy, pouring some tea and settling the pot back down. "Master," there was a flicker of a glance between Batman and Alfred, " _Batman_ has been stressing the importance of your nutrition while you are with us. I insisted on seeing to you myself."

Roy looked between the two, a bite of steak midway to his mouth as he took in the way Batman seemed to almost defer to Alfred and he _knew_ this was no usual butler. This wasn't like Oliver with his- _no, he wouldn't think about that_. He pushed the bite into his mouth and leaned forward to carefully settle the plate on the cart, the burst of flavorful juices in his mouth making him damn near groan. 

Chewing and swallowing, he offered Alfred a grateful look. "You're the best cook I've ever had the pleasure to encounter." He extended his hand and after a moment Alfred took it. With a sigh, he reached up and peeled his mask off, grateful to have it off his face. One piece of knowledge for another. If Batman would offer him this olive branch, then he'd give the only one he had. "Roy... Roy Harper."

From somewhere behind Batman, Roy heard an excited, "Yes! I _knew_ it!"

For an instant Roy could have sworn he saw amusement dance across Batman's features and then he was gone, turning away and leaving Alfred and Robin with him. 

"It's a pleasure, Master Roy."

"Just... Roy. Please." Roy picked up the plate again, pushing some potato into his mouth and giving Alfred a sheepish look for eating without waiting on them to leave. His manners left something to be desired, but he didn't want this delicious meal to go cold while he waited.

Robin plopped down next to him on the cot and Alfred bustled around the area, doing a quick job of cleaning up the few things that had been here when Roy had been delegated a spot to reside in. 

Roy watched as a small hand came into his field of vision and one of his carrots disappeared, a quiet crunch coming from his left side. 

" _Master Robin_." A warning without more than two words; it was impressive really.

Releasing a quiet laugh, Roy lightly elbowed Robin. "He's fine, Alfred. One carrot ain't gonna make or break my health."

"He had been sufficiently fed already and there is no _need_ to be stealing your food." Alfred stopped in front of them, his gaze on Robin. "If he were still hungry, he need only have _asked_ for more."

Roy could have sworn Robin was blushing under that mask and he couldn't help but smile over that. He picked up a carrot and popped it into his mouth, crunching his way through it and then swallowing. "I can't say I blame him for taking one. These are the best carrots I've ever had."

Alfred quietly replied, "Thank you, sir. If you should need anything, I will be nearby, tidying the cave."

Roy almost got the feeling Alfred would be close by for reasons beyond that. _Perhaps_ he wasn't the only one who had noticed Robin's quickly forming crush.

\-------

Roy sat with his back against the wall, the blanket draped over his shoulders again, _The Grapes of Wrath_ open on his lap. He'd started over again about twenty minutes ago, his thoughts creeping into dark places he never wanted to see again and this being the only distraction he felt comfortable with. Sure, he could have wandered the cave, could have seen everything Batman used, but he was a _guest_ and he wasn't about to be kicked out for being nosy.

The air shifted and Roy knew he wasn't alone, _almost_ thought it was Batman, though the presence was different enough he knew it wasn't; yet, there was no swish of cape, no whisper of feet on the floor, and for a moment alarm washed over him until the bed dipped and the familiar presence of Robin settled at his side. 

Roy closed the book and looked up, his heart hammering in his chest when he saw the kid wore no mask, was clad only in sweat pants and a hooded sweater. "Robin, I-"

A bright smile slipped across the kid's face and he held out a thick paperback, _Les Misérables_. He accepted it, grateful to have another book to read. Transferring the scrap of paper he'd been using as a bookmark, he held out _The Grapes of Wrath_ , placing the new volume in his lap instead. "Your mask..."

Robin shrugged, moving closer by a fraction of an inch, his thigh dangerously close to touching Roy's own. "Doesn't matter. You still don't know who I am... do you?"

Roy shook his head. "No, but-"

"But, nothing. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Roy studied the kid's face, stored the determined lines of it into his memory and turned away, huffing out a little breath of a laugh. "If you think he doesn't know already, you're lying to yourself, kid. You're probably already grounded eight ways from Sunday."

"He doesn't ground me. I guess he could bench me, but he needs me more than that and-"

There was an intentional scuff of a boot across the floor and Batman's cape swirled around him as he stopped in front of them both. "You should not be without your mask down here."

Roy could feel Robin bristling as he straightened his shoulders. "What I do is _my_ choice." That was probably too headstrong, at least judging by the set of Batman's jaw it seemed Robin was pushing his luck.

"Upstairs, Robin."

Robin crossed his arms and tilted his chin up a bit. "I did nothing wrong. My identity is mine to give up if I want to. Besides, he gave his up first."

"Just because-" something started beeping rapidly elsewhere in the cave and in an instant Batman was gone, leaving them both slightly startled in the air of his absence. 

"Told you he'd know." Roy couldn't help but rub it in _just a little_.

A second later, Robin was leaning against his side, his chin on his shoulder as he reached to open the front cover of the book. "This one is yours to keep. I had two copies."

This kid changed directions faster than Roy knew what to do with, but hell if it wasn't sort of endearing in an odd sort of way. "Yeah? Well... thank you." Roy reached to run a fingertip over the little inscription, written in pencil on the first page. His heart beat just a little bit quicker, the knowledge that he was already starting to mean _something_ to this kid more than he could handle at the moment. But if there was one thing Roy Harper knew, it was that the world sometimes offered up nice things before it turned around to shit on you and, honestly, he didn't want to know how it was going to this time.

\-------

Roy crouched low on the rooftop, having been instructed to be backup. He wasn't about to argue with Batman, not when the guy had drawn himself up in his cloak of darkness and issued the order in a manner that implied if he violated it, he'd find himself very deeply in Regret Territory. 

It'd been a month since he'd been doing this almost every single night, a month since he'd found a consistent roof over his head, since his belly had been full every single day and his clothing cleaner than it had been in years. If he were honest, it didn't matter that he was relegated to the cave. He was simply thankful to be included in someone's life like this and, really, he didn't want the responsibility of knowing who Batman was beneath the cowl. 

Alfred had made it his business to spruce up the alcove, to bring in something to dry up the air in his little area - some contraption Robin proudly informed he'd helped build - as well as a small chair and footstool he could read in, the small reading lamp a saving grace on electricity, he was sure. He'd found street clothes on his bed one day after his shower and he hadn't questioned which of them had given them to him, but the approving look Batman gave him when he'd worn them the following day had pretty much told him who it had been. 

Robin had loaned him enough books that he was starting to be able to speed read just because he desperately wanted to power through them and consume as much as he could before everything would come crashing down around his ears. He knew it would - it was only a matter of time before they got sick of him or he fucked up and got kicked to the curb. That was just the way his life had always worked. Brief periods of respite interspersed within the hell that living actually was. 

Something stirred on the street beneath him and Roy tracked it carefully with his arrow. The man in a black mask darted out from the shadows, a knife glinting in his hand. One escaped from the building, coming back in the back way. Roy took a breath and slowly eased it out halfway, pausing and freeing the shot, watching the man go down, nearly soundless, and he seamlessly loaded a new arrow, eyes flicking over the scene once again.

It was probably fifteen minutes before the back door opened and Robin emerged, making a running leap onto the dumpster, grabbing the fire escape and hauling himself up. He was up and off through the maze of landings and Roy found himself smiling at how powerful the kid was: still a teenager and such a force to be reckoned with. Tough as nails, takes no shit on the street and a great big ball of adorable fluff indoors. 

Robin landed next to him and Roy kept an eye on the backdoor. "Batman?"

"Coming." Robin perched at the edge of the roof, leaning over almost dangerously close to pitching forward. "Told me to check on you."

Roy snorted. "Remind me to thank him later." 

The door opened and Roy steadied his arrow on the door, keeping it up as Batman emerged. Finding no one behind him, he still waited until the grappling hook thunked into the wall beside him and Batman's boots crunched on the gravel of the rooftop before he lowered it. 

Batman and Robin were off across the rooftops and Roy turned, following close enough behind to not lose them, but far enough that he wasn't their problem if he got himself into trouble, though he knew they'd cover him in an instant if he managed such a thing. It reminded him of - _no, he wouldn't think about that_. Not here, not now. Not with everything going right.

\-------

Roy took two cautious steps up the stairs, Batman standing at the top of them, having called to him. His heart beat rapidly against his ribs, the flutter of it almost making him feel faint. "You're sure about this?"

Batman laughed. He actually _laughed_. Superman would have had a damn heart attack if he'd heard that, Roy was sure. Great Kryptonian, damn near a god, defeated by _Batman's laugh_. It was ridiculous enough that Roy found himself smiling despite trying to keep it tucked away. "I only make offers when I'm sure."

The rest of the steps were easy, easier than the giant amount of them should have been. He felt like he was floating on air as he ducked out from the cave and into the warmth of a room that should have been a public library for all the books it held. A fire crackled warmly across the room, the flames licking delicately at the polished stone. 

Roy's eyes roamed over all the books, his heart aflutter in his throat, excitement coursing through his veins. He was in _Batman's_ house, he real house. This very real, very lived in _home_. 

Skirting around the giant plush sofa, he went right to the first book that really caught and held his gaze, drawing his fingertip up the spine before plucking the small volume from the shelf. _On War_. He held it close to his chest and turned, backtracking to the couch and slipping his feet from his shoes, curling up on it without so much as an ounce of hesitation. Nothing else mattered. He was in front of a fireplace, in _Batman's_ home. 

The couch dipped beside him and a warm body eased up against his side, small hands pulling the book from his hands. The quiet sound of the spine as it was opened met his ears and he heard the ghost of Batman's cape and the sound of the cave entrance closing up behind him. Resting his head back, he closed his eyes and breathed out a quiet, "Read to me, Robin."

There was a hitch of breath and then, "Jason... my name is Jason." 

Roy let his hand find and lightly squeeze Jason's knee, a gentle smile on his lips. "Then read to me, _Jason_."

There was a certain air of authority in Jason's voice when he began to read, his voice low enough to not be intrusive, but strong enough to not be ignored. "Now no responsible man in Europe, perhaps least of all in Germany, thanks us for this voluntary destruction of our defenses, for all who are of any importance would very much rather end their days in peace than incur the burdens of responsibility which War would entail."

\-------

Breathless, Roy bolted up the stairs of the cave, skidded to a halt in front of the door and raised his fist, ready to pound it down if he had to. He'd been out, been using a loaned bike while trying to help take down some stupid drug ring when he'd heard the call across the comms - a ringing broadcast in Alfred's voice that Roy was sure spanned more than his own frequency. 

_Robin... is down._

Even now, fear lanced through him in a way he couldn't quite understand. Jason... Jason had left late last night and Roy had seen him go, had pretended to be asleep. If Jason wanted to sneak out of the house like a normal kid, he wasn't going to stop him. Everyone got one. Lord knew he had.

But now, the regret was growing inside of him, telling him he'd been a fool to let him leave and to not go with him or at least tail him. 

The door opened and he stared up into Batman's face. There was now cowl between them and he instantly recognized him, couldn't have stopped himself from making the connection if he'd wanted to, even with all the light gone from this man's eyes. This was _Bruce Wayne_.

"He's..." Bruce's breath caught and he shook his head, brushing past Roy, heading down into the cave, his shoulders slumped and his entire being dejected in a way that shred Roy's heart into a million pieces. He pushed out of the cave and into the library, not seeing Alfred anywhere. He let out a thin little sound from his throat, heading right to the door. Privacy be damned now. 

Two rooms later, he found Alfred kneeling beside a bed on the first floor, his head bowed and... and Jason's hand clutched in his own. Roy didn't have to ask, didn't have to do anything more than glance at Jason to _know_. He'd clearly been cleaned up, but his mask was nothing but a shred, his uniform a burned and torn mess, wrists red from ropes, and the _smell_. The stench of burned flesh and _death_ clung to the room in a way Roy was certain would _never_ fully go away.

He choked out half a sob and had to turn away, feeling the churn of emotion threatening his last meal up into his throat. With a strangled, broken cry of, "Jason," he crumpled to the floor. Nothing, _nothing_ , had ever hurt like this before.

\-------

It still stung, stung like needles to his heart every time he thought about Jason. Part of him wished the last image he had of him hadn't been the cold, lifeless form on that bed. Wished like hell the last image had been the kid fallen asleep on his shoulder, looking like an angel come to earth. Try as he might, he couldn't get the _other_ image out of his head. For three nights it had haunted his dreams; he'd woken to cold sweats, the sheets twisted around his feet, his heart pounding in his chest and tears damp on his cheeks. 

Roy had lost a hell of a lot in his life, had loved and had it ripped from him, had experienced nearly every other form of loss he could think of. He'd watched people die in front of him, had nearly died himself, could still _taste_ the brink of death in the right moments. None of it added up to _this_ loss. Not one piece of it stacked up to something even close to what he felt in the here and now. The agonizing pieces of everything around him, all of it leading back to Jason, to the exuberant little Robin he'd helped in the ally that night, who'd helped him when it came down to it. 

Roy pulled his legs up, pushed his hand under his pillow and extracted the book he'd stored there. One thick volume, spine creased from all the read-throughs it'd had in its life. Opening to the first page, he stared down at the pencil inscription, the gentle slopes of the letters Jason had written there. 

_For Roy Harper, my savior. - J_

Roy's breath hitched and he tilted his head back, let the tears slide down into his hair as his shoulders shook. His breath was like a ghost on the air. "I'm sorry... sorry I couldn't be yours, kid."

This pain it reminded him of... of everything he'd been through, of all the bad times. It reminded him of how he'd found the needle, how he'd watched Oliver's eyes turn cold and dead as they gazed at him, having found him out. And yet... none of it could quite meet this. None of it had to be avoided now that _this_ was the biggest failure of his life. If he'd stopped him... if he'd just said- _no, he wouldn't think about that_.  
\-------

Roy hitched the bag up on his back, slid the sheath of arrows over his shoulder and picked up his bow. Everything was neatly folded, ready to be put away, cleaned and perfectly prepared to just be stored away and forgotten. 

A cold sort of numbness slid through him as he picked up the one thing he couldn't leave without, the one thing he'd have traded everything in the world for. A single thick volume of _Les Misérables_. 

Turning his back on the alcove, on this life, Roy forced his feet to take the first steps toward the unknown. Life changed, life moved on, and _dammit_ did life hurt sometimes.

\-------

 _"You and I have come from a good long line. Good kids with a devil side."_  
\- Foxes' Devil Side

Gotham's air ruffled through Roy's hair, the chill of the oncoming winter seeping into the air. Arms slid around his waist and the warmth of another body pressed up against his back. He leaned back into the embrace, helpless to ever do anything else. He'd always been weak for him, weak for his _Robin in disguise_. 

The scent of rich leather and aftershave tingled in his senses and Roy reached one hand up, hooking it behind Jason's neck, letting his eyes close behind his mask, letting himself _exist_ in this moment. The places of his thoughts were dangerous, the pull of the way the world had once been stronger than it had been in a long time.

There was a stark pain of the agony the world had been for a damn long time stuck in his gut, a twinge in his heart that spoke of how ripped apart he'd been when this _kid_ had died; robbed of a proper life, taken away from him without his own choice. His heart took on a familiar flutter and Jason's hand ghosted over Roy's abdomen, applying a soothing sort of balm to his soul as he let his fingers brush over his suit, again and again.

"You were in your head again." The words were simple, achingly so.

Roy let his hand slide down, brought it to press over Jason's hand, dragging it up to his heart and holding it firmly there. He didn't respond, knew he didn't have it. It hadn't been a question, only a statement of fact.

"Where were you?" Jason caught Roy's other hand, tugged it up and brushed his lips over his wrist.

"With you..." His breath hitched and he opened his eyes, staring up into the night sky, his gaze tracking over the three prominent stars of Orion's belt. "In our past."

Jason released a little rumble of acknowledgment, letting him know he'd heard him as he pushed Roy's palm to his own cheek, nuzzled in against it. "Come back to me, my savior."

Such simple words, such profound meaning, and Roy wasn't sure Jason could ever _really_ know what they did to him. They ripped him apart as much as they rebuilt him, killed him as much as they let him _live_. 

The truth was... he wouldn't have traded them for the world.


End file.
